


What He Never Had

by imagineteamfreewill



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Reader-Insert, Sam Winchester Big Bang 2017, Spells & Enchantments, The Reader Thinks That She And Sam Are Engaged, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineteamfreewill/pseuds/imagineteamfreewill
Summary: Sam Winchester has a history of his relationships ending poorly, something you didn’t know when you hooked up with him the next morning. After something goes very wrong the next morning, he has the option to right the wrong and let you go, or hope that you can still reciprocate the feelings he has for you when all is the way it’s supposed to be. Your time together would change both of your lives forever, but it’s up to Sam as to whether the change would happen at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in Season 12 but is canon-divergent. This story was originally posted on my tumblr account of the same name on March 9th, 2017, and was original posted as a series with seven parts.
> 
> Artwork is by loracine. Links are included beneath the art.

Find loracine [on tumblr](http://loracine.tumblr.com/post/158172014480/art-for-what-he-never-had) and [on LJ](https://loracine.livejournal.com/31382.html).

* * *

 

It only took you a moment after waking up to realize that you weren’t in your own motel room. After another moment, you remembered why. A heavy arm was draped over your stomach—your _bare_ stomach. Slowly, you moved just enough to see the person’s face. He was attractive, you had to admit, but you still wondered why you had gone back to his room instead of your own. It had been years since you’d been in a relationship, let alone hooked up with anyone, and you were perfectly okay with that.

You slipped out of the bed, being careful not to make too much noise. It was difficult to slip out of the man’s tight grasp, and once you were standing you could see that he was bigger than you’d originally thought. He was large enough to be a significant threat to you, and if he _was_ dangerous, you wanted to be as far away from his hulking frame as you could. Sneaking around the motel room, you began collecting your various items of clothing. You winced when you realized just how wild your night must have been, considering the distance the clothes had been flung from the bed and the soreness of your muscles. While your body seemed to remember all it had gone through, you didn’t have much in terms of memory on how you’d met the strange man, nor what had happened after you’d gotten back to the motel. It took all your willpower to not make a sound when you thought of just how drunk you’d had to have gotten to not remember anything.

A groan made you freeze just as you were reaching around yourself to clip your bra. Slowly, you turned to face the bed. The man was peering up at the ceiling, and from where you stood it looked as if he was just as confused as you were.

“Um, hey...” Your better judgement didn’t kick in fast enough to keep you from speaking, and you regretted it instantly. The man was on his feet in seconds, a black gun pointed at you. He was wide awake now, but still unclothed. You pressed yourself against the motel room wall, your heart leaping into your throat as your hand dropped the rest of your clothes to the floor. A squeak escaped you and the man relaxed after a second, then lowered the gun. You didn’t relax, even when he set it down on the bed.

“I— Sorry. I’m just jumpy,” he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his long brown hair. You vaguely remembered tugging on that hair the night before and a sick feeling twisted your stomach into knots. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise,” he added. “What’s your name?” You swallowed dryly, unable to get yourself to speak. He was standing in between you and the door, and you still weren’t dressed. There was no escape to be made. You were at the mercy of the beautiful stranger for the time being. Sensing your anxiety, the man unloaded the gun and tossed the bullets onto the floor at your feet. You couldn’t help but flinch when they came toward you. Glancing down at them, you relaxed for a second before quickly jerking your head back up to watch him again. He had pulled the sheet around himself in that brief moment.

“I’m Sam. I don’t normally do… This.”

“This?” you managed to ask, your throat still dry. Licking your lips, you tried again. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have sex with strangers, to start, and I don’t normally get drunk either. Or at least, I don’t get drunk enough to not remember anything,” he sighed. You felt more at ease now that you knew he didn’t remember much of anything either.

“So you don’t remember anything at all?” you questioned. Sam shook his head and you chewed on your lip, crossing your arms over your bare chest self-consciously.

“Do you remember? Did we…?” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. You knew what he meant, however, and you nodded. Sam sighed and ran his free hand through his hair again. Watching him, you tried to force yourself to relax, and you focused your energy on getting rid of the tension winding up your muscles. “Right,” Sam finally said. “Well, if your muscles are as sore as mine are… I’m assuming that we had a good night.”

“I don’t do those things, either,” you blurted out. He met your eyes and you felt your breath catch in your throat. His eyes were beautiful—kaleidoscopes of living color, swirling from gold to gray to green to brown to blue. Every time you blinked they seemed to be a new color, and you found yourself absolutely mesmerized by them.

“Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly, making you jump a little. His pink lips curved up in a small smile. You knew he was trying to reassure you, and the fact that he was even trying made you feel better. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” You shook your head quickly.

“No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have been staring.” The admission made a blush rise in your cheeks and you realized that you still weren’t dressed. Grabbing them from the carpet, you hurriedly pulled on your clothes, wriggling into the minidress you’d managed to wiggle into the night before. You had kept in the back of your closet ever since you’d graduated from college. It had barely fit you then, and you weren’t surprised when it barely fit you now. The dress got stuck on your head, and just as you felt embarrassed tears welling up in your eyes it was yanked down. The zipper cool was against your back as Sam stood next to you, a soft smile on his face. In the time it had taken you to get dressed, he had pulled on the pair of black boxers you’d seen on the floor, along with a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips. You lifted your eyes to meet his before he could catch you staring again.

“Better?” he asked, and you nodded. “Y/N?”

“How did you—” you began to ask. Sam held up your license and room key, along with the few bills you’d had left at the end of the night. Everything had been stuffed in your bra and you now took them gingerly, trying to calm yourself down.

“So, you never answered my question. Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving, actually, now that I think of it,” you laughed. Sam laughed a little as well.

“Can I take you out for breakfast, then?”

“Like… a date?” Sam nodded and you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You want to go on a date with your one-night stand?” He nodded again and gave you another tiny, sheepish smile. You couldn’t help but laugh as you nodded your agreement. Sam’s tiny smile grew into a wide grin, and you knew in an instant why you had left the bar with this man. There was a warmth about him, and even though you’d only been speaking with him for an incredibly humiliating few minutes, he already made you feel welcome.

Sam led you outside after loaning you a pair of his shoes. The sandals were way too big on you, but they were better than the treacherous heels you’d worn to the bar, which you’d left lying on the floor of his motel room. Sam didn’t have a car, but he didn’t try to hold your hand until you slipped it into his, lacing your fingers in between his long ones. He was a perfect gentlemen; you could tell that he had been the same way earlier last night.

The two of you walked into the diner together, where a man immediately stood from one of the booths and called Sam over. The man was shorter than Sam, but there was a faint resemblance in his features that couldn’t be ignored. He stared at you with piercing green eyes, his expression wary. A bit unnerved, you glanced up at Sam and inched closer to him.

“Dean, this is Y/N. She’s a friend,” Sam told him. The man—Dean—relaxed upon hearing that and then gave you an easy smile.

“Just a friend, Sammy?” he teased. Sam shot him a dirty look, then gestured for you to slide into the booth. You did so, smiling when he slid in after you and stopped when he was close enough for his thigh to rest against yours.

“Y/N, this is my older brother, Dean. He can be kind of a jerk sometimes, so just ignore him,” Sam instructed. You nodded a little, then took the laminated menu he handed you without a word. Dean looked between the two of you and then grinned like the cat who got the canary.

“Sammy! Since when do you bring girls to breakfast? The bar must have been more fun last night than I’d thought!” he cried, his voice almost proud. You flushed and ducked your head behind the menu, feeling almost ashamed by his words. Sam’s hand found yours under the table and squeezed. The action was oddly intimate and your momentary regret disappeared at the feeling of his hand in yours.

“That’s enough, Dean,” he growled. He must have been giving his brother another dirty look, because Dean didn’t say anything else until the waitress came to take your orders.

“Hey there… Amy,” Dean crooned, winking at her. The girl tittered, fidgeting with her notepad, and Sam gave you an annoyed look. You grinned at him, trying not to laugh at his older brother. In the five minutes since you’d first met Dean, you’d figured out one very important thing about him—he liked to flirt. While he had yet to flirt with you, his charm had come out in full-force as soon as the waitress had stepped over to your table, and you were sure that you’d seen him give the same flirtatious smirk to several other girls who’d passed by.

“Is he always like this?” you whispered to Sam while Dean chatted with the woman. He nodded, looking peeved.

“Just be glad he’s not flirting with you. Then I’d have to strangle him,” Sam whispered back. Your laughter came out as a snort and you slapped your free hand over your mouth, trying to hold back any more noises. Sam’s eyes twinkled with amusement and he squeezed your hand again under the table. This time you squeezed back.

You, Sam, and Dean ate your food quickly when it came. The three of you were all ravenous—Dean, because he seemed to be eager to leave the diner, and you and Sam because you’d worked up an appetite the night before, which didn’t go unmentioned by his brother. Besides Dean’s remarks and Sam’s curt replies, the meal was relatively quiet.

When you were finished eating, you excused yourself to use the bathroom. Sam gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek as you slid out of the booth, and you found yourself blushing all the way there.

Another woman was standing at the bathroom mirror, touching up her makeup. You gave her a polite smile when she glanced your way, then headed into a stall to take care of your business. The woman was still there when you came out to wash your hands.

“I see you’re here with the Winchesters. Nice boys,” she commented, startling you. She had a British accent, something you never expected to hear in the middle of Iowa, and you looked her way, feeling uneasy at her sudden interest in you.

“What?” you asked. She set the tube of lipstick she was holding down on the edge of the sink to look over at you.

“The Winchesters? The famous hunters?” You gave her a blank look and a slow, strangely fond smile spread over her face. “You have no idea who you’re eating breakfast with, do you?”

“I’m… Sorry?” you apologized, still confused by her odd questions. “Are they friends of yours?” The woman laughed, throwing her head back slightly. She pushed a lock of brown hair away from her eyes as you looked on.

“This makes my job so much more fun, dear!” You were about to ask what her job was when she threw something down in the sink. A plume of gray smoke exploded out of the basin and you coughed, fanning your hand in front of your face. Backing away, you turned to leave the bathroom to tell an employee when the woman began to chant something in a language you’d never heard. She flicked her fingers in your direction and a wave of dizziness came over you. You had to grab onto the edge of the trash can to keep from falling. The room stopped spinning around you after you blinked a few times, and you frowned when you saw that the strange lady was nowhere to be found. The sink had nothing in it and the air was empty of smoke. There was no indication of what had just happened, and you decided after a few moments that you had just eaten something bad. Remembering an article you’d read about how bad food could give you hallucinations, you shook your head and quickly finished washing your hands.

You left the bathroom and started heading back toward the booth when you felt a weird tingling in your fingers and toes, as if they’d fallen asleep. Your stomach churned and you quickened your steps, preparing the words to tell Sam you should head back to the motel. If you were sick, you’d rather be sick in the bathroom there than in the bathroom at a diner. The hallucination from the bathroom and the weird feelings you had now were enough to tell you that you were ill, and you decided that letting Sam know would be better than letting him think you were just trying to get away from him. A little nagging feeling told you that you should probably tell him about the woman, too.

As soon as you saw Sam, however, a loud ringing filled your ears and you stumbled, reaching up to cover your ears with both hands as a silent scream left your mouth. Dean had been watching you from his seat, and you saw him mouth your name in concern from where you were hunched over. Fear rose up in you when you couldn’t hear his voice over the ringing. You squeezed your eyes shut, the force of the sound making you crouch down as you tried to block your ears even more. The feeling of a hand on your shoulder made you open your eyes, and you looked up to find both Sam and Dean standing over you.

Sam’s eyes were focused solely on you. His mouth was moving, but you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. Much to your surprise, however, the ringing disappeared as soon as he had spoken. You blinked up at him, confused. Dean was just finishing reassuring the other customers, all the while throwing worried glances your way, and you watched as they slowly went back to their meals.

“Sam?” you questioned, unsure of what he’d asked you. He exchanged a look with his brother before looking back at you. He held out his hand for you to take and then helped you to your feet.

“Yeah… Y/N, are you feeling alright? Should we head back to the motel?” You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak and then closing it. There was something important you needed to tell them about the bathroom, but suddenly you couldn’t remember. All you could think about now was _Sam_. Whatever it was, you decided that it couldn’t have been that important.

“I’m feeling fine, babe.” You smiled, slipping your hand into his. You led him back to the table and then slid back into the booth, pulling him after you. “So I was thinking we should go visit the planner today. Does that sound good to you?” you asked, taking the last piece of toast from his plate and beginning to nibble on it. Sam was staring at you, a bewildered look on his face.

“What are you talking about? What planner?”

“Um, the wedding planner? Remember? We talked about hiring one so I wouldn’t have to do all the planning on top of work?” You took a sip of your juice just as Dean choked on his. “You okay, Dean?” He nodded and set the glass back down on the table, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his plaid shirt.

 _“Wedding planner?”_ he asked. He sounded like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth and you stared at him for a moment before rolling your eyes. When you looked back at Sam you saw he was giving you the same look that his brother was.

“Um… Yeah? Is this some kind of joke? You guys are kidding, right? It’s not funny. Planning a wedding is hard, we already went over all this. I don’t need to be worrying about work and a wedding.” You gave them an annoyed look, but you were suddenly uncomfortable with their ignorance. They were both acting really well for just a simple joke; usually Sam would have cracked a smile by now. The little voice in your head told you that something wasn’t right. You needed to try and remember what you wanted to tell Sam, but it was gone as soon as it had popped up.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Y/N? We’re… We’re not engaged. We just met last night at that bar…” Sam trailed off, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt. Tears sprung up in your eyes before you could reassure yourself that it was probably just something Dean had convinced him to say while you were in the bathroom. His words still hurt, however, and you couldn’t help but show it.

“Sam, we’ve been together for seven years! I can’t believe you’d say something like that. It’s really not funny, so just knock it off.” You tossed the toast you’d stolen onto your plate and practically shoved him out of the booth. “I’m going back to our room. Let me know when you’ve decided to actually act like my fiancé again.” You stomped out of the diner, slinging your purse over your shoulder as you headed back to the motel.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude,” Dean scoffed, watching her go through the blinds hanging in the window, “either you got with some crazy chick last night, or something weird happened in that bathroom.” Sam nodded slowly, chewing on his lip as he thought.

“You think it’s a spell?” he asked. Dean considered it for a moment before shrugging.

“S’possible. We’d have to check for hex bags, but there wasn’t any witchy stuff going on when we got here,” he replied. Sam nodded in agreement. There was something off about your sudden flip in attitude, and he looked around the restaurant for some kind of clue as to what had happened. After a moment he stopped looking, his eyes focused on a brown-haired woman sitting across the room with her back to him and Dean. He’d seen her come out of the bathroom only minutes before Y/N. When Dean realized that Sam wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying, he followed his brother’s gaze.

“She look familiar to you?” Sam finally asked, his eyes still trained on her lithe frame. Dean shook his head.

“No, but from the way she’s looking at that picture of us on her laptop, we’re pretty darn familiar to her,” Dean growled. He started to get up from the booth, only to have Sam reach over and stop him.

“We don’t know who she is, Dean, or how she got that picture. Call Cas, find out if he knows who—or  _ what _ —she is.” Sam pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the woman, then dropped a few bills on the table to cover the cost of the meal. “I’m gonna head back to the motel and figure out what’s going on with Y/N. You just find out who that woman is, okay? Find out how she got our picture. Text me if you find anything.” Dean nodded and stood, glancing at his phone when the picture Sam had sent came into his inbox.

Sam left the restaurant and started walking back to the motel, nodding politely at the people he passed along the way. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost walked straight into the Impala as Dean drove past him on the street. Sighing, he waited till the line of cars had passed him before crossing the street and entering the motel’s parking lot. Y/N was sitting on the concrete outside his door, a miserable expression on her face.

“Y/N?” he asked, somewhat tentative in case she was still angry with him. When she looked up, Sam saw that her eyes were rimmed with red, as if she’d been crying. His suspicions were confirmed when Y/N gave a juicy sniffle before standing.

“What do you want?” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Why are you sitting outside the room?”

“My key doesn’t work.” Sam started to tell her that the key she had was for a completely different room, but after a minute he decided it was best not to make her any more upset. If Y/N left, he and Dean wouldn’t be able to figure out what was going on, and if the strange woman in the diner and what had happened with Y/N were related, they’d have no leads whatsoever. He either had to keep up the charade or tell her what was going on and hope she wouldn’t leave. While he wasn’t exactly pleased with her sudden attachment to him, Sam didn’t want to her to leave after finding out what had happened to her. It wasn’t fair to her, and it was his job to find out why she was acting so strangely. It had probably happened because of him, anyway.

Sam dug the plastic room key out of his pocket and opened the door, letting Y/N step inside before him. She took one look around the room before turning to face him.

“Where’d you put my stuff?” she asked, starting to get upset again. Sam thought quickly, searching his brain for a response that would hopefully satisfy her.

“We uh… We had a fight last night. Remember? You got your own room. The room number is probably written on your key.” He watched as Y/N gave him a suspicious look before finally pulling out a room key identical to his, all except for the room number. “Are you still mad about what I said at breakfast?” he asked. She chewed on her lip for a moment before shaking her head. Sam sighed in relief. He already didn’t want to deal with this situation, but it would’ve been even more difficult to fix things if she was mad at him.

“I know you were just joking around and that it was probably all Dean’s idea in the first place, but I just…” Y/N shrugged, trailing off. She stared down at the carpet, waiting for him to say something in response. Instead, Sam stepped forward and placed a hand to her forehead to see if there were any physical effects from the spell. There seemed to be none so far, which was something Sam was grateful for. She looked up at him, watching as his eyebrows slowly unfurled and his expression became less worried. “What?” she asked.

“Uh, nothing. You’ve just been a little off this morning. I was worried you were sick,” he replied, his voice soft. Y/N nodded and took his hand as he lowered it, lacing her fingers with his. She only held it for a moment before she was wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. He felt Y/N smile against him, then watched as she peeked up at him through her lashes, her expression so full of love that his chest tightened. Sam smiled softly in return and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He reached up with one hand and cradled the back of Y/N’s head, holding her to him. Her silence gave him a chance to think. Now that she wasn’t mad, he had the best chance of finding out if anything strange had happened to her in the bathroom at the diner. The warmth of her body pressed against his, however, was so enticing to him that he didn’t want to ruin the moment by speaking. The feeling wasn’t foreign, but Sam hadn’t felt this close to a woman in a long time. He had been craving something like this—intimacy, warmth, even the quiet calm she was bringing to the room. All were things that the hunting life couldn’t provide, and all the one-night stands in the world couldn’t give them to him, either.

“Do you still love me, Sam?” Y/N’s question made his thoughts stop in their tracks.

“What?” His arms dropped to his sides as she pulled away to look back up at him.

“Do you still love me? It’s been awhile since you proposed, and all your joking this morning made me think that… That maybe you don’t love me as much as you used to.” Sam looked down at her, his heart breaking at the innocent softness in her eyes. Something had happened to her for sure, and though he wanted to correct her and tell her that they weren’t engaged, Sam couldn’t bear to see her in pain. He’d hurt women by leaving them. His mind drifted to Madison and Amelia, then Jess. Sam didn’t want to hurt Y/N, especially since she had done nothing but love him ever since she’d stepped into his life. There was something about her made him happy, even though he’d only known her for a short while. He knew deep down, however, that whatever had happened was his fault. Every relationship he’d ever held had been ruined by his past, and there was no doubt in his mind that this one wasn’t an exception.

“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing thickly to keep the guilt and pain he felt from creeping into his voice. “I still love you, Y/N.” With a small smile Y/N wrapped her arms around him again, squeezing him tightly once more before pulling away and heading toward the door.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m gonna go get my stuff from the other room and return the key, and then we can look up a good planner on your laptop,” she told him, smiling all the way out of the room. Sam sighed heavily when the door closed, then ran his hand through his hair as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He’d gotten himself in deep. He could tell that he was starting to having feelings for the woman who’d somehow been forced to fall in love with him, and that was dangerous. He had to fix this before it got even more out of hand than it already had.


	3. Chapter 3

Three days passed and neither Sam nor his brother had figured out who the woman from the diner had been. After a day, they’d assumed she’d been put under a spell of some kind, but they hadn’t been able to figure out what kind of spell it was. They’d searched the three cars—hers, Sam’s hot-wired one, and the Impala—and both rooms for hex bags, though that idea had been a dead end. Cas hadn’t called since they’d first asked him to help them figure out what was going on, and Y/N hadn’t gotten any better. Sam finally resigned himself to the fact that the spell wasn’t going to wear off over time, unlike the many others they’d dealt with over the years.

“Sam? Are you sure you don’t want to come to the wedding planner with me?” Y/N asked for the fifth time that morning. Dean glared at Sam from across the motel table where they were researching and Sam kicked his shin before he could say anything .

“Um… Actually, yeah, I’ll come. I could use a break from work,” Sam replied, smiling. He closed his laptop and stood, stretching slightly. He tried not to notice the way Y/N’s gaze was focused intently on his lower stomach when he dropped his arms back down to his sides and readjusted his flannel. “You ready?” She blinked and then nodded, forcing a nonchalant smile.

Sam followed her outside to her car. It was old, blue, and falling apart, but when he’d asked her about it the day before when they’d made a dinner run, Y/N had told him that it had been the first big thing she’d ever purchased on her own. She had gotten it when she’d graduated college. When she’d told him the story, he could tell that it had been a truly happy moment in her life, and he hadn’t had the heart to tell her that he could easily hot-wire her a better car with no cost to her. 

“Is something wrong, Sam? You know you can talk to me about anything.” Y/N’s question surprised him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“What?” Sam replied, stopping on the passenger side of the car. She shrugged a little and unlocked the doors, then slid into her seat. After he had buckled up and she was backing the car out of the parking spot, she glanced over at him again, looking reluctant to speak.

“I don’t know. I guess you just seem… Different. Less talkative than before. You’ve been quieter since I came back to our room,” Y/N admitted. Sam looked over at her, biting down on his lip. More than anything, he wanted to tell her what was going on. She deserved as much, but he couldn’t get himself to recount the story of the strange woman they had seen in the diner. He’d been putting it off for as long as possible so he could spend more time with her without having to think about how she was dealing with the supernatural. At the same time, however, he couldn’t get married. That cost money that he and Dean didn’t have, and he couldn’t get married to someone he had just met. It would be putting Y/N in danger, too, and the mere thought of that made bile rise in his throat.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, I guess,” Sam replied slowly. He had to be careful about what he said to her. “Are we taking this too fast? I mean, maybe we should save up some more money. That way you could have a bigger wedding, or we could get a nicer apartment or something afterwards.” The lie came smoothly, but he felt a little ache inside his chest as he spoke about weddings and apartments. Sam hadn’t thought about those things since he’d wanted to propose to Jess over ten years ago. He watched Y/N chew on the inside of her cheek as she mulled over his words. She pulled the car over into the turn lane and flipped on the turn signal, eyes focused on the red arrow hanging over the intersection.

“Do you  _ want _ to wait? If you want to, then I will. I don’t want you to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, Sam…” The irony of her words struck him. Here she was, being forced to think something that wasn’t even remotely true, yet her concern seemed to be only for him and his wishes. The ache in his chest grew bigger.

“Are you sure?” he asked. Y/N glanced over at him and nodded with a tiny smile, then reached up to smooth out the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows with her thumb. Sam realized that she’d done that a lot the past few days, but strangely enough, it didn’t bother him. He liked—no,  _ loved _ —the little displays of affection that Y/N showed him. All the times she’d touched his hair, smoothed out little wrinkles, and put her hand on his back… It made him wish that their relationship was real. Even though he knew that he would never be able to have an apple-pie life, as Dean put it, he wanted so badly for the engagement and the relationship as a whole to be something other than a hoax.

Sam shook his head slightly once Y/N went back to driving, trying to get the romantic thoughts from his head. He needed to focus on reversing the spell and freeing her. After knowing firsthand what it was like to be made to think you were attracted to someone, all Sam wanted to do was make sure that Y/N would be okay in the long run. 

“I’m gonna run inside and cancel our appointment, then,” Y/N told him, leaning across the center console of the car to kiss Sam’s cheek. He hadn’t even realized that they’d arrived at the wedding planner’s office and he smiled when she opened the door of the car to head inside.

“I love you, Sam.” She leaned against the metal edge of the door, eyes sparkling. Her smile was bright and adoring, and he couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“I love you too, Y/N.” The words came unbidden, almost easier than the lies he’d been telling. Sam tried not to see how happy they made her, or how happy Y/N’s words made him.


	4. Chapter 4

“Did you find out who she is?” Sam’s voice was hard to hear through the motel window, but here you were, pressing your ear against the glass to try and figure out why he couldn’t take the call in front of you. You knew it was Dean that was calling, since you’d seen the caller ID and nobody else ever called him, but for some reason Sam had excused himself outside instead of answering it like he normally did.

He was quiet for a moment before you heard him groan. You watched through the gap between the curtains as he ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed it over his face. Chewing on your lip, you pressed your ear against the window again.

“—the bunker for possible spells,” Sam was saying. “I need to know what kind of spell it is, and if she’ll get hurt because of it. I can’t be responsible if she something happens to her, Dean. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.” He paused, a strange expression on his face.

“What? No! I’m not  _ falling _ for her, I just—” Sam gave an annoyed sigh. “Yeah. Okay. Call me back later.” You scrambled away from the window and went back to the bed, sitting on the edge and focusing your eyes on the TV just as Sam stepped back into the motel room. He was giving you a nervous look when you turned to smile at him.

“Everything okay?” you asked, your happy expression fading. You could tell the smile he gave you was forced.

“Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment as he set his phone down on the table, clearly still lost in his thoughts. You turned your attention back to the movie playing on the grainy TV, waiting for him to say something. “Hey, Y/N? Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” you replied with a grin. Your feeble attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. Sam pressed his lips together and looked down at the floor. Grabbing the remote off the bedspread, you turned off the film so you could give him all of your attention. Sam rested his weight against the back of one of the chairs as you moved to sit cross-legged. He was silent again and you waited, somewhat nervous to hear what he would ask. Your thoughts kept wandering back to what he had said to Dean on the phone about falling for somebody. Sam had already fallen for you—he’d proposed just over a year ago—and it made you both anxious and angry to even think that he could be falling in love with another woman while he was engaged to you.

“What do you remember about us? I mean, about our relationship before this past week,” Sam clarified. You stared at him for a moment, confused.

“What do you mean ‘before this past week?” you asked. Sam chewed on his lip. You could practically see the restless thoughts bouncing around in his head, wondering if you were seeing through his careful questioning.

“I mean… What’s our story? Tell me about how we met, the dates we’ve been on, how I proposed…” He trailed off and you scoffed. Your anxiety was long gone now.

“Are you telling me you forgot  _ all _ of that? Everything? I mean, I wouldn’t be mad if you suggested that you forgot a few minor things, but this is ridiculous, Sam.”

“Humor me. Please?” You watched him, unsure if he was kidding or not. Finally, you took a deep breath and thought back as far as you could remember, searching your memory for the moment you’d met Sam Winchester. You frowned when you realized you couldn’t remember. Sam was watching you, his eyes filled with apprehension.

“Um… Well, we went on normal dates like other couples. You know, dinner, movies, bowling…” As the words left your mouth you realized how flimsy your answer was and your heart clenched. Your mind was racing as you tried to figure out why you couldn’t remember the things he was asking of you. You couldn’t think of how you had met, any specific dates you’d been on, inside jokes, or any presents you’d given each other for Christmas, anniversaries, and birthdays. For the things you could remember, the details were cloudy; you could only truly remember how long you’d been dating and that you were engaged. Thinking harder, you realized that you couldn’t remember how Sam had proposed at all. Unconsciously, you touched your ring finger, noticing almost immediately that it was empty of any semblance of an engagement ring. You hadn’t really thought about having a ring before, and now you could see that neither you nor Sam were wearing rings of any kind. Slowly, you looked up to meet Sam’s gaze.

“You can’t remember any of it, can you?” he whispered. You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as your breath caught in your throat. He crossed the gap separating the two of you in one big step and cupped your face in his hands, kneeling on the carpet in front of you so he was almost at eye-level. You looked down as he used his thumbs to brush away the tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s going on anymore,” you sniffled. You felt like a complete failure and it was utterly humiliating. Sam shook his head and pulled you into his arms. His grip around you was tight and you relaxed against him, sniffling and letting his presence comfort you. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not upset. I’m not upset with you.”

“But you  _ should _ be,” you replied, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rush-hour traffic outside your motel. “I can’t remember anything, and I lost my ring! Why aren’t you wearing yours, Sam? What happened to our rings?” Distress filled your voice and Sam started rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. The rings don’t matter right now. We can figure out the rings later,” Sam said. He pulled out of the hug to look at you, and you sobered up a little when you saw how serious his expression was. Your heart began to flutter in your chest again, anxiety causing its rhythm to grow unsteady. 

“Y/N, if I ask you something, do you promise to answer me honestly, even if it sounds crazy?” he questioned. You nodded, somewhat hesitant at his request. Sam moved to sit on the edge of the motel bed beside you, the side of his knee barely resting against yours. “When we went to breakfast at the diner after we had that fight, something happened to you when you went to the bathroom. I don’t know what it was, but I  _ really _ need you to tell me everything you remember. Can you do that for me?” Confused, you stared blankly at him for a moment before looking down at your hands. Your cuticles were ragged; you tended to pick at them whenever you were worried, and you couldn’t stop yourself from picking at them even more while you thought about what Sam had asked. The whole morning was somewhat hazy in your mind. After a few minutes, however, you finally grabbed onto a solid memory.

“There was a woman in the bathroom with me,” you finally told him. “A really weird woman. I don’t… I don’t remember liking her.” Sam nodded.

“Did she have brown hair? Somewhat tall? Did she say anything to you?” he asked. His questions came faster than you could think of answers and you shrugged a little. You didn’t remember anything else, and it pained you to admit that. It suddenly seemed that you couldn’t recall a lot of things. Sam gave you a comforting smile, noticing the confusion and anguish that was no doubt written all over your face.

“It’s okay. Just keep thinking for me, okay?” You nodded in reply. Sam stood from the bed and grabbed his phone from the table.

“Where are you going?” you blurted out, wanting desperately for him to stay and comfort you some more. That’s what fiancés were supposed to do, and Sam was still your fiancé, memories or otherwise.

“I need to go call Dean about something. Just stay here and keep thinking for me, alright?” He headed back outside before you could answer, leaving you alone with your empty thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam was getting out of the shower when he heard Y/N scream. He threw a towel around his waist and grabbed his gun, bolting out into the motel room as quickly as possible. Cas was standing beside the TV stand, while Y/N was pressed against the wall. Her laptop laid haphazardly on the bed’s comforter and the movie she was watching still playing on the dimmed screen. Sam relaxed when he realized it was only Cas, then let his arm drop back down to his side as he clicked the gun’s safety back on. 

“S— Sam? What’s going on?” Y/N stammered, fear making her eyes wide. Sam carefully made his way over to her, setting the gun on the second bed in the room. He held the towel around his waist with one hand and held his other out for her to take. She took it, her eyes still focused on Castiel as she hesitantly peeled herself away from the wall.

“It’s okay, Y/N. He’s a friend, his name is Cas. I’ll explain everything in a minute, okay? He’s not going to hurt either one of us. I promise,” Sam added, keeping his voice soothing. Y/N slowly looked up at him and he nodded encouragingly. She swallowed and then sat down on the edge of the bed. After he was sure she wasn’t going to pass out from fright or make a run for it, Sam turned to Cas with a threatening glare. He had warned his friend that Y/N still didn’t know about angels. Cas had apparently forgotten the part of the conversation where he agreed to not pop in while she was present.

“What are you doing here, Cas? We talked about this,” Sam said. He kept his voice so Y/N wouldn’t get more upset, but he wished he could yell at Cas for frightening her. She’d been through enough already.

“Sam, the woman that you asked me about is a witch. Her name is Violet Martin. The Grand Coven banished her centuries ago for the misuse of her powers,” Cas relayed, not once looking Y/N’s way. “She’s powerful, and very good at hiding. The spell she placed on Y/N won’t harm her. I’ve found the spell itself, but nothing to reverse it. I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll keep looking. Rowena might know something, if you want to ask her.” Sam took the yellowed paper Cas held out to him and sighed, nodding.

“Thanks, Cas. You uh, you should go. I need to talk to Y/N…” Sam trailed off, glancing at her. She was picking at her nails again. It had been three weeks since they spell had first been cast, and in that time he’d been taking as many mental notes as he could on Y/N. He knew her routines, favorite foods, facial expressions, and anxious habits. Picking her nails was the most prominent habit, but it was only one of a few. Cas disappeared with the sound of a flapping sheet and Y/N flinched. Her head jerked up to see where he had gone, and after a brief moment she was standing, eyes meeting Sam’s.

“What’s going on, Sam? Where did he go? What were you two talking about? Witches?  _ Spells? _ ” Y/N’s voice kept getting higher pitched with each question and Sam bit down on his lip. He didn’t know where to start. It was bad enough that Cas had appeared out of nowhere and then mentioned witches, but now she knew that there was a spell on her. That was enough to make anybody panic.

“Let’s sit down, Y/N. I’ll explain everything. Just let me get some clothes on first, okay?” She watched him anxiously and then nodded. Her eyes flicked over his still-wet form as she slowly sat down.

Sam went into the bathroom and changed. When he came out, she was sitting in the same spot, her leg bouncing up and down—another one of her restless habits. She looked up when he walked out of the bathroom with his travel bag and he noticed that her eyes were filled with tears. Quickly, he went over and sat beside her, taking her hand. 

“Just tell me what’s going on, Sam.  _ Please _ . That— That man said there’s a  _ spell _ on me?” Her voice shook and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Yes. There’s a spell on you. I… I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t want you to get hurt, but maybe I should’ve told you anyway. I know what it’s like to find out that everything you’ve believed isn’t real and… And I’m sorry,” Sam said, looking at the floor. He didn’t want to see the hurt on her face. He was already feeling guilty enough.

“What kind of spell? Am I going to die? What’s he talking about? What’s not real?” Y/N pulled her hand from his grasp, moving to stand again. Sam reached out and stopped her with a hand on her forearm, hoping that she would listen to him long enough for him to finish explaining.

“You’re not going to die, Y/N, I promise. I wouldn’t let that happen to you. The spell only affected your memories. Our relationship isn’t what you think it is. Do you remember how I asked you about that time you saw the woman in the diner bathroom?” Sam asked. He looked up and Y/N nodded. She was staring at him, unsure of what to make of what he was telling her.

“That woman was the witch that my friend was talking about,” he continued. “Dean and I saw her sitting in the diner later on, and she was looking at pictures of us on her computer. We’d never seen her before and we got suspicious. It turns out we were right about her. She cast a spell that makes you think we’re engaged, Y/N. I’m really sorry, but we aren’t even dating. We, uh… The night before we went the diner we met in a bar for the first time—we didn’t know each other before then. It was just going to be a one-night stand until I invited you out for breakfast.” Y/N was quiet. She looked back down at her hands and inspected her nails. Sam stayed quiet, watching her carefully. Nothing he could ever say or do could erase what he’d just told her; and he knew that now she wouldn’t want anything to do with him, fake engagement or otherwise. A car drove past the dark motel and its headlights lit up the room, casting long shadows as it illuminated the empty second bed.

“Do you want me to explain more, Y/N? Or do you just want to go to bed? It’s getting late,” Sam murmured, trying to give her an out. She shook her head.

“Why?” she whispered after a moment, her voice barely audible.

“Why?” he repeated, confused. When she lifted her gaze once again, Sam could see the hurt in her eyes. He swallowed thickly.

“ _ If _ this is all true,  _ why _ did this happen? I mean, your friend said she was from the Grand Coven or something, right?” Sam nodded in response. “That sounds pretty powerful to me, Sam. Why would someone from something that powerful want to cast a spell on  _ me?  _ I’m nobody! I’m just a normal girl who works a normal job in a normal town.  _ Why me?” _

“She wanted to hurt me,” Sam said after a minute, sucking in air through his teeth. “I’ve got a history, Y/N. I’ve done some  _ really _ bad things. Not just things like stealing or speeding, but awful, incomparable things that hurt  _ a lot _ of people I cared about. I’m not going to hurt you, but lots of people want to hurt me. They’re using  _ you _ to get to  _ me _ . I’m so sorry. I don’t normally have one-night stands—or any kind of romantic relationship, for that matter—because my job and my past means they could get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt anyone. I really don’t, but for some reason they decided that you were the best way to get to me, and that’s something I never wanted to happen to someone like you.

“I’m sorry for getting you wrapped up in all of this. Nobody should have to go through what you’re going through, especially not because of the things  _ I’ve _ done. It’s not fair to you. I’m going to make everything right again, and then you can go and forget all about me. I’m going to fix this. Okay?” Sam took her hand again and shifted so he could face her better. He wanted so badly for her to know that he was going to reverse the spell. She deserved to know that things were going to be okay and that she could someday have a normal life again. He hadn’t had that when Toni was messing with his mind, and he needed to know now that she had what he never did. Nodding, Y/N squeezed his hand ever so slightly. The room was silent as he waited for her to respond. 

After taking a deep breath, she finally did. “Okay. I trust you, Sam.” The words were so simple, yet they made him sigh with relief. It felt like the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Y/N reached for him with her other hand. She cupped his cheek, letting her thumb brush across his cheekbone for a moment before she continued.

“I don’t think I  _ believe _ you, but I trust you to do whatever you think is right for us. If figuring out this spell or whatever makes you happy, then we’ll do it together. I’m not going to let anybody hurt you, not because of me,” Y/N told him, her voice soft and earnest. Sam didn’t know how to reply. He knew that she was just trying to placate him, considering that spells made it impossible for their victims to think against them, but he still didn’t know how to express how grateful he was toward her for not being angry.

“Y/N, I—” He hadn’t even gotten the words out before she’d leaned in and kissed him. It only lasted a moment before she pulled away and looked at him, still cupping his cheek in her hand. In her eyes he could still see the confusion and hurt he’d caused, but there was something there he couldn’t identify. It was only a flicker, yet it stood out from the other emotions. Sam watched her, unsure of why she had kissed him after everything he’d told her.

“ _ Together _ , Sam. I love you, and even though I think that this is just another dumb joke you’re pulling on me, I want to show you that I love you. Okay?” He closed his eyes, ducking his head to move away from her touch. He felt her breath brush over his hair as he shook his head. He couldn’t stand her saying she loved him after all he’d done to get her into this mess. Y/N gently pulled her hand away from his and then took his face in her hands, moving so she could better meet his eyes.

“We’ll figure it out. We’re  _ going _ to figure this out. I know you’re expecting me to be upset with you or freaking out or something, but for now I just… I trust you to take care of me. Besides, I know how to tell if you’re lying to me,” Y/N smirked. Sam raised an eyebrow, choosing to ignore the heartfelt part of her remark.

“Yeah? And how do you tell if I’m lying?” he asked. She laughed a little and shook her head.

“If I tell you, then you’re gonna say I’m wrong no matter what,” she replied. “Because Sam Winchester always has to be right.”

“That’s not true!” She laughed and shook her head at him. Sam grinned, feeling better now that the subject had changed, and he pushed her down to the mattress, loosely pinning her down with her arms above her head. “Tell me how you know when I’m lying,” he demanded, still smiling playfully. Y/N shook her head and pressed her lips together, refusing to speak. He released one of her hands and reached down, tickling her side where her shirt had ridden up slightly. With a squeal, she wiggled out of his grip and darted away to stand on the other side of the bed.

“I’m not telling!” she laughed. 

“You’ll tell me eventually,” Sam grinned, reaching for her once more.


	6. Chapter 6

“I found a way to summon her.” Both Sam and Y/N looked over at Dean, who was staring at his laptop intently. 

“Oh really?” Y/N drawled out the last word, one eyebrow raised in surprise. Dean nodded and looked up from his screen. Standing, he grabbed the laptop and brought it over to the other side of the table, setting it between her and his brother. She sighed and leaned over to see what he had pulled up. While she still didn’t believe Violet’s spell was real and she was still convinced that she and Sam were engaged, Y/N had been playing along with Sam and Dean while they researched. It was mostly to humor Sam, but both boys appreciated it.

“The Latin’s not too hard…” Sam mused, reaching over to scroll down on the site. Dean smacked his brother’s hand away from the touchpad and scrolled down himself. “We’ll have to have Cas get a couple of the ingredients, though. I don’t think we have all of them in the trunk.” Dean nodded in agreement.

“You two have  _ cat claws _ in the trunk of your car?” Y/N questioned, looking between the two boys. Sam gave her a guilty smile and she made a face, clearly disgusted at the thought.

“Alright, so it’s set. We’ll summon her later tonight,” Dean concluded. Both Sam and Y/N nodded their agreement. Sighing heavily, Sam closed the book he had been looking through. Y/N glanced over at him as Dean picked up his computer to move back to his seat.

“Everything okay?” she murmured. He nodded a little, but he knew she was seeing right through him. He was glad they’d found a way to give Y/N her normal life back, yet his chest felt tight every time he thought about having to say goodbye to her. After a minute he reached over and took her hand under the table, squeezing lightly.

“Come on, let’s go get something from the vending machine,” he whispered. He watched as she shot Dean a somewhat worried glance before nodding in reply and getting to her feet. Sam pushed his chair away from the rickety motel table and stood as well, ignoring the confused look Dean gave him as he followed Y/N out of the room.

Once outside, Y/N silently fell into step beside him. They reached the vending machine at the end of the covered walkway without having spoken, and he could tell she was hoping he would say something first. When he stopped walking she looked up at him, concerned.

“Is something wrong, Sam?” He smiled wryly, thinking of how many times she’d asked him that over the three weeks they’d spent together when it should’ve been him asking her. Shuffling a little, he pulled out a wrinkled single from his jeans pocket and stuck it into the machine, looking over the drink options. “Sam?” Y/N repeated.

“Let’s say this spell is real and that Dean and I aren’t just pretending. When it’s finally reversed, would you still want to be with me?” he finally asked. After a moment she nodded slowly, watching as he jammed his finger against one of the buttons and retrieved the can that the machine had dispensed. He didn’t particularly want anything to drink, especially not soda, but when he pulled it out of the machine he realized he’d automatically chosen Y/N’s favorite. She accepted it without a word when he held it out to her.

“Sam, what are you trying to say?” Y/N fiddled with the tab on top of the can, watching him apprehensively. He ran his hand through his hair, turning and looking out at the parking lot. It was mostly empty of cars, yet the Impala sat obediently outside the room he and Dean had been sharing. Two spots away stood Y/N’s rusty blue Honda. She’d taken to staying in her own room ever since Sam had told her about the spell. He wasn’t sure if it was out of respect for his wishes to not complicate things, or if she just didn’t want to be with them now that he and Dean were openly talking about hunting.

“I really like you, Y/N. Is that crazy? Or— Or inappropriate, even?” He couldn’t get himself to look at her. All he could imagine was the look on her face; she had to be upset that he was still talking about the spell, despite her involuntary disbelief. The fact that he was implying he hadn’t loved her for as long as she thought had to cut deep, too.

“Well, considering we’re engaged…”

“But what if I’m right, Y/N? What if we’re  _ not _ really engaged? What would you be doing with your life if we weren’t together?” Y/N flinched. Sam couldn’t help his outburst, and he immediately regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t, Sam,” she muttered, ducking her head and pushing past him. She headed back toward her motel room, ignoring his calls after her. The sound of the door slamming drew Dean out of their room.

“What did you say to her?” Sam ignored his older brother and ran a hand through his hair. “Why’s Y/N upset?” Dean pressed.

“Because I screwed up. Let’s just do get the witch here as soon as we can. Okay?” Sam replied sharply. Dean took one look at his brother and nodded, knowing better than to say anything otherwise. Sighing heavily, Sam made his way back into the room and started to read over the ritual. The Latin needed to perfect, and it would be a welcome distraction from the intrusive thoughts that kept telling him Y/N was going to hate him after it was all over.

Hours passed, and soon Dean had gotten his hands on all the ingredients they would need for the summoning spell. Sam had perfected the Latin only an hour after reading it for the first time, but he’d stubbornly repeated it over and over again in his head, if only to keep himself busy. Part of him wanted so badly to keep Y/N under the spell. He’d grown to love everything about her. He loved the way she talked, walked, dressed, and even the little quirks she didn’t even knew she had, but he knew deep down that he needed to do the right thing, regardless of his feelings. Y/N deserved a normal life where she could fall in love of her own volition, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he kept her from that. Still, a nagging little voice in the back of his head urged him to botch the spell so she would stay with him.

After reading through the incantation one last time, Sam stood from his spot on the edge of the bed and stretched, his muscles aching and his bones popping. Dean grimaced at the noise.

“Does Y/N need to be in here for this?” Sam asked, setting Dean’s laptop where he could easily see it behind the spell bowl. Dean shook his head.

“No, but I’ll go get her. The witch may need to see her to reverse the spell,” he replied, making a face when he mentioned Violet. “You start without us, okay?” Sam nodded and watched as his brother shut the door behind himself, heading next door to coerce Y/N to come back to their own room.

Taking a deep breath, Sam began to drop the ingredients into the basin. He chanted the spell as he added them one-by-one, and he was almost to the end of the incantation when a plume of sweet-smelling smoke exploded from the metal bowl. It rocked on the table and he reached to steady it, hissing in pain when the metal burned his fingertips. Continuing to speak the words, Sam slid in the last ingredient—half a handful of crushed violets. The smoke disappeared the exact moment the final syllable left his lips. Dean burst into the room only seconds after and looked around expectantly. A very angry Y/N was close behind him, her lips pursed in displeasure.

“Did you do it?” Dean asked. Sam nodded and looked around. There was no sign of the witch, yet when he looked down the bowl was completely empty.

“Listen, guys. I know that this whole spell thing has been your little joke for the past few weeks, but it’s not funny anymore. It’s creepy, and if witches really  _ are _ real, you’re messing with some scary stuff. You shouldn’t mess with things you don’t know about,” Y/N spat, crossing her arms. There was uneasiness and fear in her eyes, and Sam opened his mouth to reassure her that she was safe as long as she stayed with him and Dean.

“The little pip is right—you shouldn’t mess with things you don’t know about.” Sam whirled around, reaching for his gun. The woman who’d interrupted stood in the cleared space in the middle of the room. She clucked her tongue at the magical barriers they’d put up to keep her in place. With a wave of her hand, the spray paint on the carpet disintegrated. Giving Sam a patronizing smile, she gestured in his direction. The gun in his hand disassembled itself, then floated down to rest on the TV stand. Y/N was staring at her in shock as she backed up toward Dean, who still stood in the doorway.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N. That was never my intention,” the woman said, still smiling. Her accent was reminiscent of Toni’s, but both boys were surprised at the sweetness in her voice. They gave each other wary a wary look across the motel room.

“Are— Are you—” Y/N sputtered, her eyes wide with recognition.

“I’m Violet Martin, yes. Your summoning spell was wonderful, Sam, but your Latin could use a tad bit of refining.” Sam scowled, now more annoyed at the witch than angry. The smile on her face slowly faded as she looked between them. “You’re summoning me because of the spell, aren’t you? Why, I thought you’d be happy, little pip! And Sam, don’t you want her love?” Violet questioned. 

“It’s true? I’m under a spell?” Y/N replied, ignoring Violet’s question and the nickname she’d given her. Dean shut the door behind them, sliding the gun from his waistband into his hand. The witch’s eyes flicked to the weapon before she sighed deeply, sitting down on the edge of Dean’s bed. He gave her a disgusted look.

“Yes, it’s true. But you asked me to put you under it the next time I saw you. Of course, you wouldn’t remember that,” she mused.

“Why?” Sam demanded. “If you’re so kind, why would you put a spell on someone who doesn’t remember asking for it?” His anger simmered to the surface and all the feelings and memories of his own disillusioned love that he’d repressed bubbled up in his mind as he glared at the witch in front of him. She gave him a sad look, her whole expression softening.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t think of the things you’ve been put through when I did this. I know what that woman did to you, even if your brother is oblivious. Nobody should have to go through what you did, and I do regret putting you in this position.” She bowed her head apologetically, her brown hair falling in front of her face in the moment before she lifted her head again. “Now, can I explain myself since I’ve answered all your questions?” Sam, Dean, and Y/N exchanged glances, each of them looking equally uneasy about the witch’s future explanation. Finally, they all nodded. Violet smiled and folded her hands in her lap.

“Before I was banished by the Coven, I had only one student. Being a powerful witch came with much responsibility, and I was entrusted with training a very promising child—Y/N. She grew under my care and her powers blossomed beautifully. However, I could tell she was quite unhappy with her life. As she grew older, I saw that the spells in which she succeeded most often were those of the heart.” Violet directed her gaze at Y/N, who was watching her with obvious disbelief. “You wanted love, Y/N, and that was something that neither the Coven nor I could provide. So, I created a spell of my own. For all intents and purposes, it killed you, yet the final clause was that when the one who could love you the best was born, you were reborn as well. You wouldn’t have any memory of living and training with the Coven.

“I was banished because of the spell. My final promise to you before I cast it was that if you hadn’t fallen in love by the time I found you, I would cast another spell to bring the two of you closer together, hence my engagement spell. That was your final wish, little pip—that I would assist you if you couldn’t do things on your own, just as I always had.” The witch finished her tale and looked between the three standing before her. The room was silent as they each processed the information.

“Y/N?” Sam asked. She looked up at him, eyes filled with tears. “Do you remember any of that?” After a moment she nodded, a sob escaping her lips. Dean immediately pulled her into his arms, knowing that Sam would have to cross paths with Violet to get to Y/N. He glared at the witch over Y/N’s shoulder. Watching her cry broke something inside of Sam. Ever since Violet had arrived, he’d been going back and forth on whether or not to ask her to remove the spell. Now, he knew that he needed to do what was best for Y/N, rather than himself. That was what love was, and that was something that, other than his brother, he’d never had.

“Can you reverse the spell?” Sam turned to Violet, his gaze hard. She nodded. “Do it.”

“That decision is for Y/N to make, Sam. While you’re meant to be together, the circumstances of your relationship are up to her,” she told him, her voice even.

“I want it to be real,” Y/N cried out. “I’ll do anything, please! Just get rid of the spell!” Her voice shook as she sobbed in Dean’s arms, and the witch’s expression grew downcast. She uttered a few words under her breath, then nodded resolutely. The room was still as the sound of Y/N’s cries grew softer and softer.

“It’s done,” Violet said, looking up at Sam. She gestured between him and Y/N. “Whatever the two of you have now is genuine. Do you need anything else, or may I go? I can’t risk someone from the Coven discovering me. That wouldn’t be good for any of us, I might remind you.”

“Wait!” Y/N exclaimed. She broke out of Dean’s grasp and rushed over to Violet, hugging her hard. Sam watched as she whispered something to her, then pulled away and wiped her eyes with a small smile. Violet smiled in return, then disappeared before their eyes. Dean was the first to speak.

“I’ll let you guys figure this out. I’ll be at the bar down the street if anything comes up,” he told them, heading out the door and closing it behind him. Sam glanced over at Y/N, who was watching him carefully. Unsure of what to say, he looked at the faded carpet and picked up his now-reassembled gun. He slipped it back into his waistband while Y/N sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve again. Outside, the sound of the Impala roaring to life broke the heavy silence, then faded to nothing as Dean drove away.

“So… Do you still like me?” Y/N finally asked. Sam stopped fiddling with the gun to look over at her. She gave him a soft smile, her hands picking at her nails absentmindedly. He nodded in response.

“I do, yeah,” he answered, clearing his throat before continuing. “I was never under a spell, so every feeling I’ve ever had for you has been genuine… What about you? Do you feel any different?”

“I feel… Clearer. I know that we weren’t engaged and I remember everything that’s ever happened to me, even the things that happened since the spell. I remember everything from when I was training as a witch, too.”

“That’s good, right?” Y/N shrugged in reply. 

“I guess, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that I know what to do about my… feelings for you. I mean, I  _ think _ it’s love, but I’m not sure. I’ve never felt this way before, Sam.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and then looked over at the spot where Violet had been standing. “Violet taught me as much as she could about love, but she didn’t know much. I know that it feels like butterflies in your stomach and that your brain gets fuzzy sometimes. I know that the person you love can make feel you warm and at home, like when you drink hot chocolate and you feel warm all the way down to your bones. I know that Dean loves you, and he’s willing to do anything for you, so maybe that’s love too, I guess. If I feel those things, is it love, Sam?” Sam chewed on his lip, then stepped closer to her. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze and he gave her a warm smile.

“I don’t know, but we can figure it out together, Y/N. Do you trust me to help you?” Sam asked. Y/N nodded immediately, looking down for a moment to lace their fingers together.

“I trust you, Sam. I trust you.” 


	7. Chapter 7

It had been two years since Violet had reversed the spell on Y/N. Over the years, she and Sam had grown incredibly close. They were inseparable; as a result, they made a deadly hunting duo. She and Sam shared a room in the bunker, and they’d even had several discussions about their future together. While Sam had always dreamed of having his own white picket fence and two-point-five kids, he had soon realized that he didn’t need those things to be happy. Y/N was all he needed, and now he finally had what he never did.

Dean had grown closer to Y/N over the past two years, as well, but not in the way that Sam had. Y/N was the sister he never had, and he was protective of her on hunts almost to the point where it was overkill. Their constant banter was not unlike his usual back-and-forth with Sam, and Sam had lost count the number of times he’d caught them dancing around the library or garage to Dean’s collection of records when they thought he wasn’t home.

Now, Sam laid still in bed as Y/N moved around beside him, clearly just waking up. She slid her arm around his torso and wiggled closer to fit herself against his back. He smiled softly, keeping his eyes closed. Y/N’s breath against the shell of his ear was warm and it tickled, but he refused to give her any signs that he was awake.

“Sam,” she crooned, “It’s time to wake up.” He didn’t reply, he simply used one arm to pull her tighter against him, sighing as if he were still sleeping. Sam felt her smile against his shoulder, then felt the light kiss she pressed against the skin there.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Wake up so I can kiss you properly,” Y/N urged. Turning over, Sam leaned in and kissed her on the lips. She smiled brightly, then kissed him back eagerly. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?” she laughed, her features still soft from sleep. 

“Mm, no. But kissing you is a good reason to stop pretending,” Sam grinned. Y/N laughed and kissed him once more before snuggling against his chest. He brought one hand up to run his fingers through her hair, letting his head rest on the pillow.

He and Y/N laid in bed until Dean finally came knocking on the bedroom door, demanding that they get up and eat the food he’d made for lunch. Reluctantly, they agreed and climbed out of bed, sharing clumsy kisses as they dressed.

“It’s about time you guys got out here,” Dean grumbled as they walked into the kitchen. Sam gave him a look, but Y/N only smiled. She pecked Dean’s cheek affectionately as she passed by to get to her usual seat at the table. His grumpy exterior crumbled a bit at that, and Sam squeezed Y/N’s hand under the table when he noticed. She leaned over to kiss him in response, only to be interrupted by a loud groan from his older brother.

“Okay, okay, we get it! You just got back from your honeymoon, but can you  _ please _ keep the kissing to a minimum while we’re eating? People do eat in here, you know,” Dean said, giving them both an annoyed look.

“Are you suggesting we do  _ dirty _ things in the kitchen, Dean Winchester?” Y/N gasped, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth in mock offense. The look she was giving him was downright ridiculous, and Sam snorted, almost spitting out his coffee. Her expression grew mischievous when her lips grew into a wide smile. “Because if you are, you’re correct,” she finished. Lifting her mug, Y/N took a sip of her own coffee, glancing in Dean’s direction over the rim of the cup. 

“I think I just lost my appetite,” he grumbled, pushing away from the table and giving his plate a forlorn look before leaving the kitchen. Y/N giggled as Sam pulled her to straddle his lap, smiling from ear to ear.

“What am I going to do with you? You’re a tease and a troublemaker,” he laughed.

“Don’t forget a witch and a hunter,” Y/N replied, pressing her lips to his. He squeezed her thighs as he kissed back, groaning softly against her mouth.

“And my wife,” Sam replied in between kisses. She brought her hands up to weave them through his hair, keeping her eyes closed as he kissed her silly.

“I love you, Sam,” she murmured breathlessly, pulling away just enough for her lips to brush against his.

“I love you too, Y/N. Is it bad that I’m happy you were put under a spell?” She shook her head with a smile and a quiet laugh, leaning in to kiss him once more.


End file.
